


Infraction

by Korpuskat



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Blindfolds, Canon-Typical Violence, D/s overtones, Face-Fucking, Fingering, Glove Kink, Inappropriate Use of the Force, Inappropriate use of a Lightsaber, Kylo keeps everything on tbh, Kylo keeps the mask on, Leather Kink, Lightsaber Insertion, Naked Female Clothed Male, Object Insertion, Other, Size Kink, Smut tbh, Stormtroopers dont have sex ed, actually literal canon violence, blowjob, dirty talking, lol oops, my kinks let me show them to you
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-22
Updated: 2016-02-22
Packaged: 2018-05-22 16:02:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6086005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Korpuskat/pseuds/Korpuskat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As a Stormtrooper, it's very inappropriate to think of your superior officers in a personal sense. Especially when they can read minds.</p><p>Pointless smut, didn't want to add it to "Four Letter Word" since it's a slightly darker take on Kylo. KIND OF DUBCON due to the nature of your ranks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Infraction

**Author's Note:**

> lmao sorry
> 
>  **Contains** : Stormtrooper (you) not knowing anything about sex or desire. Lots of mentions of Kylo killing you. Completely clothed Kylo + you are naked (idk if there's a specific title for that), glove kink, leather kink, Kylo keeps the mask on, blindfolds, Force-bondage, Force-stimulation, D/s overtones, dubcon?????, dirty talking (idk how to write it sorry), size kink, lightsaber insertion (oops).
> 
> Half a sentence mention of implied previous, non-explicit non-con

It started with the raid and razing of Tuanul. You were simply a part of a squadron assigned to the attack, regular First Order business. At least, until the command shuttle arrived; Upsilon-class, large and black and formidable, much like the mysterious man who arrived in it. 

Everyone on the _Finalizer_ ’s crew knew who he was- most managed to avoid his (frequently dangerous) path. But you had never seen him in person before, you’d never seen him outside of the clinical displays of a holochannel reciting orders as your commander. Never seen the strange, dangerous sword he used for his weapon, the ornate lines of metal marking his black helmet, or the way he carried himself like no one else around him mattered, or even _existed_. Never seen his raw, untempered power. 

A warmth settled below your stomach as he cut through the man he’d been looking for- one clean slice as though he were tissue paper. The entire squadron startled in shock as he froze a blaster’s shot mid air. It was the power, you knew, that ignited this new feeling- this strange swirling of energy inside yourself. You wanted something, something you'd never experienced- something you knew nothing about. You wanted him to use that power on you, hold you in place as he could do anything he wanted to you. You shuddered. Anything at all. 

With as little knowledge as the Order had given troopers on the delicate subject, you knew you wanted him to touch you- and you him. Wanted to remove all those layers of clothing one piece at a time, reverentially- to worship anything that was under that outfit. What did he look like, under all that? It didn’t matter, really. You weren't interested in his body, you were interested in _him_ , his power and his status- his personal ability to command the very laws of nature with a _thought_. You weren’t drawn to him for his looks to begin with. Was that normal? Was _this_ normal? You’d never heard of such a feeling being reported among the ‘troopers, and you did not wish to be an outlier.

But was it bad to… to feel whatever this was towards a superior officer? You weren't intending any disrespect from the train of thought-- the opposite, really. You wanted to put him on a pedestal. It certainly didn’t feel bad, pleasant actually, as you imagined, vaguely what it would be like to stand so close to him, for you to be his center of attention if only for a little while. To have all that power focused on you, no matter the context.

He ordered the man who had shot at him to be taken on board and then-- he turned to you. Across the battlefield, across the broken remnants of an outpost and the flames and cries of the inhabitants, he looked straight at you. Between two sets of helmets you couldn’t meet his eyes, but your entire body went rigid and cold. You knew he had read your thoughts, he must have. Your mind flooded with quick apologies on the inappropriate natures of your thoughts, how you meant no disrespect to your superior officer, how you (truthfully) did not understand that nature of your desire and how it absolutely, under no circumstances, would ever happen again.

He turned away and spoke to the Captain and gave the order to kill the remaining villagers. You didn’t want to disappoint him further. 

 

 

Back on board the _Finalizer_ the 'troopers were taken to a quick debriefing meeting before sent about their non-combative duties. You were eager to get back to standing guard, a mindless unfulfilling duty that was at least hard to muck up and harder to draw Lord Ren’s attention more than you already had. You hoped he didn't pick up your ID, hoped he'd let you blend back into the background noise of white armored nobodies. But before you could go and check in at your regular posting, Phasma stopped you. 

“Lord Ren commands you are to report to his quarters.”

The words stop you cold- by reflex alone you salute your Captain and say something to the affirmative. You’d heard stories of the ‘troopers summoned to Kylo Ren’s quarters, that they’d go and never come back. They’d mysteriously be listed as a casualty of a previous skirmish, despite witnesses to say they’d survived to be summoned. You wanted so badly to just go back to standing guard, to not moving or saying anything for hours on end just so this wouldn’t have happened. 

At least there was a chance that he wouldn't kill you, maybe just reprimand you and choke you, like he had to many 'troopers before you. If you disobeyed direct orders, however... Nobody says 'no' to Kylo Ren. With little choice, you laid down your rifle and fought your way to the lifts.

 

When you arrived he stood with his back to the door, arms folded easily behind his back. The room he resides in is much larger than the barracks, but that is, of course, to be expected. He's a co-commander of the ship, after all. You end up stopping halfway between his bed and the doorway, near the center of the room. His hood is down, showing the sharp lines of the helmet he wears, so different than the smoothed, white curves of your own. Despite the fact he is not looking at you, you salute and greet him accordingly, “Lord Ren.” You commend yourself for not letting your voice shake. 

He turns to you then, casual and unhurried, observing you. At least he isn’t acting like he’s about to kill you. That’s a good sign right? 

“Remove your helmet.” You startled at this, unsure if you’d heard the order correctly. It was proper procedure for a Stormtrooper to only remove their helmets when eating, sleeping, or bathing. But, it was better to not question it at this particular moment. You removed your helmet and held it to your side, unsure as to why he wished to see your face.

He made no further comment on it, nor could you read his expression through the black visor. Instead beginning to circle around you. “Tell me, KT-0513, what happened on Jakku?” Like an interrogation. You weren't out of hot water yet.

You stiffened your back and recited what had been covered in debriefing. “The First Order received information that a vital Resistance asset may have been in hiding--” 

“No.” From behind you, his synthetic voice was more terrifying than you could express. “What happened to you on Jakku.” 

“I, I was part of the squadron selected-”

His hand caught the side of your face, turning you to look at the blank mask as he crowded up against you- halfway behind you. Your eyes danced over the metal lines surrounding the black visor, unable to read anything off the faceless mask. You felt exposed without your own helmet, so unused to the physical press of someone else’s hand (even still covered in a glove) against your skin. “No. What did you _feel_.” 

_Oh_.

Your legs shook at the memory, the hot tingling returning inside you as you watched him on the surface of that desert planet. “I don’t know, S-sir. I n-never felt...” You didn’t know how to finish that sentence, instead let it hang. 

He stepped away from you, returned to his slow circling. “What were you thinking of?”

Your face flashed red in shame. Your voice was barely above a whisper as you admitted it:“O-of you, Sir.” You spoke louder, happy to admit your mistake in this. “It was horribly inappropriate, Lord Ren, I apologize. It won’t happen again.” 

He ignored your brief moment of self-flagellation. His tone was serious, but you began to get the feeling he was just playing with you. A cat with a mouse caught under its paw. “What about me were you thinking of?” 

You hesitated. “Sir, I don’t…” The steady pace of his boots stopped- Your whole body shook. In terror, desperate to please, you spoke, “I wanted to… touch you. To um, u-undress you, Sir. F-for you to, to touch me.” You closed your eyes, tried to fight against tears that threatened to spill at your own weakness and shame. He was definitely going to kill you now. 

“You think you’re worthy of seeing me?” An actual accusation, serious and deadly in its intent. You shook your head forcefully.

“No, Sir! I just…” 

He cut off whatever weak explanation you could use. “Take off your armor.” Was this some sort of punishment? For wanting that from him…?

Your momentary hesitation was not welcome this time. His voice dropped low and dangerous, clarifying that it was, in fact, an order. “Take. It off.” 

Nobody says no to Kylo Ren, you remind yourself. Your hands shook but you managed to find the releases from the white suit, setting them neatly in a pile near you until you stood in only your black regulation undersuit. You looked to his mask before you reached for the hem to the suit as well, making sure you understood. He nodded, “That too.” 

You swallowed any fear or shame and removed the form-fitting suit so that you stood naked before him. Your hands hung to your sides, but they itched to cover any modesty you had left. He circled once, twice. Appraising you like a starship at auction. You didn't track him as he moved around you, focusing instead on a spot on the wall. He stopped in front of you, this time nodding towards his bed. “Lie down.” 

That warm tingling was back, but you didn't know why. You ignored it as you obeyed his order. His bed was much larger than your own, it felt strange to have so much room on either side of you as you settled into the center, unsure of what he had planned. He probably wouldn’t kill you on his own bed- he’d have to clean the mess up before he could sleep. But this was definitely not procedural punishment. To be fair, you had only insulted him, not broken any specific rule, at least, you think. 

Instead he wandered leisurely towards a large wardrobe and removed an article of cloth. He walked back to hand it to you-- you took it and examined it. It was just a black strip of cloth, thick and heavy, but soft enough to not feel scratchy. It didn't look to be anything in particular, not explicitly designed in its purpose. “Cover your eyes. Blindfold yourself.” 

You looked up to him questioningly, thoughts immediately falling to how those who were executed were blindfolded. But you’d said so yourself, you weren’t worthy of seeing him. So you wrapped the cloth over your eyes and tied it firmly behind your head and blackness enveloped your sight. 

You sat like that, anxious and unsure for only a moment. Your other senses already picking up the slack, happy to listen to the soft noise of Ren's breathing through his mask, to feel the nice linens under you. 

And then it felt like chains had wrapped themselves around your body- wrists wrenched to be held against the blankets, legs pulled apart. You gasped and tried to struggle, but another weight pressing against your neck reminded you that this was his doing. He controlled this power, the same power you'd wanted. When you calmed, the pressure on your neck subsided, but the invisible chains around your wrists and ankles did not. 

A leather hand touched your chest, trailing over your skin as the leather caught and dragged. Fingers slid to one nipple and began to roll, your breath caught at the strange, new sensation. “Is this what you wanted?” 

You whimpered, pushing your chest into his hand. He tugged roughly at the bud and you yelped against the pain. “When I address you I expect an answer, KT-0513.” 

“Yes, Sir! It-it’s what I, wanted, Sir.” 

“Is it?” He was playing with you again, his hands trailing further down, just above the juncture of your thighs. You didn’t know why that fire was burning so hot where he touched, didn't know why you wanted him to move his hand just a little further down- wanted it so badly you ached for it. “Or did you want me _here_?”

“T-there, Sir. Please…” You whined, and he let one leather-covered finger slide down your slit. You moaned happily, bucking against his hand for any friction at all. You’d never felt this, never touched yourself there before, never even thought to. 

His finger slipped lower and pressed- what? It was strange, like, being stretched, filled. You knew then he was _inside_ you. You could feel the smooth texture of the leather gloves, feel the ridges of the seams as they slid over your wet walls. You whimpered, wanting more, but not sure what it was you wanted exactly. But he fulfilled that desire, sliding a second finger inside along side the first. He handled you roughly- not that you had anything to compare the experience to- working you open with hard thrusts of his hand, never brushing against your clit- not that you knew where or what that was. 

And all too soon he stopped, pulling his hand away from your skin. You so wanted to beg, to plead for him to keep going, but you knew he wouldn’t. It wasn’t your place to ask for more. Even then, you couldn't help but whine for the loss and shifts your hips eagerly. But you waited, listening to the shifting of cloth as he moved his robe about. You felt it before you heard it- the hot, sparking presence of the weapon you’d seen. The laser sword. You could feel how close he was holding it to you, feel the heat that radiated off it and into your skin, feel just how easily he kill you just like this. The pure control he had over you.

He clicked it off, but your heart was still pounding in your chest, fear controlling your body for the moment. But then one leather hand was back, pressing against your hip and thigh to steady you and-- your hips jerked up and away, something cold and hard pressed against where he’d slid his fingers into you. You whined, the object much less welcoming than his gloved fingers has been. His patience was wearing thin, he grabbed your hips and forced them to the bed, holding you steady as he pressed the object inside.

It was so, so _large_. The rounded head was the hardest part, but once he'd managed to push that inside the rest was more manageable. You wanted so badly to squirm away from him, but with his power and strength holding you steady you could only bite your lip through the unfamiliar pain.

“The more you resist the worse it will be.” You whine but try and relax against the intrusion, much larger than his fingers. And yet, there’s an odd pleasure to it. Being opened up so wide, to have the strange ridges rub your insides, being used as he wanted- just as you’d wanted him to do hours before. The object felt impossibly long, pressing deeper into you than his fingers had-- you felt it then. Two unmistakable smaller protrusions on the side digging into your thighs, still warm. It was his _lightsaber_. You moaned then, clenching against the cold, unforgiving metal. 

The Knight stepped away to look at you then. Naked, blindfolded, and bound to his bed, his own weapon buried deep in your cunt. And you. You _liked_ it. Fifteen years he’d surrendered to the Dark, and never. _Never_ had someone not required his special type of persuasion to express physical interest in him. He palmed his erection through his pants and watched as you tried desperately to grind down onto the hilt of his saber. He cast his mind over your thoughts-- with as little knowledge you had, your instincts told you it should be moving inside you, how you so wished he would touch you again. 

He decide to grant you that. Unable to see through the blindfold he pressed the same two fingers to your lips. “Clean them.” And you did, happy to taste the tang of oil mixed with what could only have come from you- your own slickness coating his gloves. Without being able to see your own work, you methodically moved your tongue over the leather. You slid your tongue between his fingers and he pulled them from your mouth, only for you to hear the shuffling of cloth, and to press something else at your lips.

You opened your mouth hungrily, happy to accept the warm length that entered. Knowing as little as you did, you knew this was what you'd wanted before, for you to touch him. You were even happier when his hands gripped your hair and his hips began to jerk into your yielding mouth (you gagged at first as the tip of his cock bumped the back of your throat, but like with the saber, you willed your body to relax), he using you for his own pleasure. Your willingness was rewarded and you were downright ecstatic when somehow- through his mystical powers you supposed- the metal hilt that held you open began to rock inside you while both of his hands were still buried in your hair.

For as commanding as the synthetic voice was at giving orders, it was even more effective when he spoke in that breathless tone, occasionally interrupted by grunts. “I bet you’d like to stay here forever, wouldn’t you? Be my little pet?” You moaned against his cock, because, stars yes, yes absolutely-- “Yes, you would. You’d never leave, the only thing you’d ever have to do is get _fucked_.” Your hips rocked at the thought, moaning again in agreement. He cursed in an alien tongue and moved your hair away from your face. “You look like you were made for this, made to ride my sword and suck me off…”

He groaned, something garbled through the modulator, the hilt between your legs thrusting properly now- a little uncomfortable at first from the harshness of some of the edges, but easily finding a pleasant rhythm as the pommel stroked something inside you that was making you see stars against the black cloth over your eyes. “Such a good little cocksucker, I think you deserve to cum, don’t you?” 

You weren’t sure what he was suggesting, but at his praise you eagerly agreed, moaning against his flesh as he pounded into you. Something pressed against where he’d touched you briefly, above where the sword was- and then the feeling became like his leather gloves, rubbing against something you didn’t know existed- your entire body jerked at the phantom Force sensation. 

Ren gave a particularly hard thrust, his cock forced down your throat- his hands holding you to the musky patch of hair on his abdomen as he moaned through the synthetic voice. His cock twitched on your tongue and something was spilling down your throat making you want to gag again. Finally he pulled away and you gasped in greedy lungfuls of air. 

“Very good.” he murmured, tracing a gloved hand over your jaw and lips. The hilt moved faster, the fake fingers massaging your clit matching its pace. The fire that had been burning inside you was building into a strange pressure. You’d never felt anything like it, couldn’t even begin to describe the _need_ that was burning through you. But need for what? You couldn't think anymore, driven only to move as much as you could against the sensations between your legs.

When it felt like you would break apart, ecstasy flooded over your body- your mouth hanging open in a wordless cry of pleasure, the fire exploding and easing away as the fingers and sword slowed to a stop. You laid lifeless in his bed for several moments before the pressure on your wrists and ankles faded and the hilt was withdrawn from your body- slow, working it patiently out so as not to hurt you. You felt... hollow without it, weirdly empty.

You pushed at the cloth on your face just in time to catch Lord Ren holding his sword, dragging his fingers through the white-clear liquid coating the hilt. He wasn’t looking at you, focusing solely on how the fluid moved between his fingers. He spoke nonetheless. “You’ll be reassigned tomorrow.” 

You didn’t ask what he meant.

**Author's Note:**

> Come tell me your secrets at [ my Tumblr ](http://korpuskat.co.vu/).


End file.
